


Feathered Hope

by i_am_zan



Series: A DGM Fanworks Initiative 2K17 (run by Kitty Bandit)/from tumblr [6]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Dreams, Gen, Hope, More Introspection, Oh who am I kidding, Peace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 09:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11272752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_zan/pseuds/i_am_zan
Summary: Day 6: D. Gray-man Fanworks Initiative 2K17: Peace; Dreams; HopeTwo very different Black Order exorcist contemplate the idea of Peace





	Feathered Hope

**Author's Note:**

> "Hope is the thing with feathers  
> That perches in the soul, " - Emily Dickinson

When Klaud Nyne hands Timothy Hearst back to her Emilia’s heart is glad and at ease again. Even if he is covered in grime, even if he is all snotty-nosed and red-eyed. Even though he is exhausted. Only when he is back with her, and she can fuss over him as he should be. And she can scold him as he should be. All the things she should do because he is still a child. And it is the little things that a mother does, that brings peace. It is the nagging to do his homework so he can be better, because this is set against the hope that one day he goes out, it won’t be to fight. She washes him clean so he can sleep well and have dreams that one day he won’t have to fight to live to fight another day. One day he can go back and laugh amongst his friends who dote on him. Those who are grateful to him for taking their worries on his dear little shoulders.

 

Timothy takes a window seat in the refectory of Black Order Headquarters. His eyes track the raindrops after they hit the glass. He is slightly mournful. An air of disillusionment hangs heavy over everyone. It’s one of those times he lets himself be the little boy he is wishing for those simple days when the only thing that concerned him was where he would hit next for a heist to keep the Orphanage going. At least now with negotiating skills far beyond his years, the Orphanage will fine for the moment. 

 

The downside to this is of course trying to keep alive, trying to get trained so he will grow in strength. Trying to acquire some focus for his other lessons. He is still hopeful enough to dream that one day he will need other skills than fighting skills. He has hope that one day he can be useful and be more than just a vessel for Innocence.

"~"~"~" 

Miranda sits in the library grateful for the brief lull between missions. She likes to keep busy, because when she’s not a thousand million thoughts hit her all at once and sometimes she finds they are too much for her. She is saddened by the fact that the Bookmen are missing, and that Allen Walker has been declared renegade. These were comrades who had been kind to her. These were friends who accepted her. Gracelessness and all. She wants this war to be over so they can come home again and be happy together again. Noisy, bickering and underneath it all, that unity that can only be formed when you have been soldiers together. But for this war, she would still be stuck. In time, in a rut, friendless and purposeless.

 

The idea of peace, that dream and hope that everyone else might wish for (actually) fills her with some dread, because she will be useless again then. She fears the time when she might be cast aside and told to go on her own. She knows she should not even entertain such foolish contemplations but she cannot help herself when she has a moment to herself. Perhaps a part of the reason why she misses the Bookmen so much, particularly Lavi. He could (partly) empathise her dread of the end of the war, even if for different reasons. He did understand. She supposes it could be because she is one of the few that sought solace in the library; and oft those times were spent in the company of the redhead on the many assignations heaped upon the poor boy’s head by his unyielding master.

 

Nowadays, thoughts of War’s end are just fantasy, because it looms large in their everyday and a conclusion is elusive, judging by how an air of doom hangs over everything. Nowadays the hope that she’ll see the Bookmen again wanes akin to the light of a gibbous moon entering its crescent phase. It hangs faint and ghostly at morning’s edge. Nowadays she feels the time she can hold at bay, running, out on her. Smothering her in weakness,, but it is that weakness that feeds her strength of desire in not letting anyone down. .

"~"~"~" 

FIN 

**Author's Note:**

> “ ... the eave-drops fall  
> Heard only in the trances of the blast,  
> Or if the secret ministry of frost  
> Shall hang them up in silent icicles,  
> Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.” – Frost at Midnight, ST Coleridge
> 
> *shrugs* Childe Roland definitely did not fit here.
> 
> Once again, thank you, for suffering thus far. - Have a great day peeps - Zan


End file.
